Christmas Bells Are Ringing
by luvsbitca
Summary: Stiles has gone to the Christmas dark side and is going BIG in his celebrations. Sequel To – Wednesday's In Town
1. Mixed Peel

**Title –** Christmas Bells Are Ringing  
 **Sequel To –** Wednesday's In Town  
 **Author –** Moonbeam  
 **Rating –** Teen  
 **Warnings –** Nothing  
 **Summary –** Stiles has gone to the Christmas dark side and is going BIG in his celebrations.  
 **Disclaimer –** Don't own either universe – I'm just loving this 'verse so hard!  
 **Author's Notes –** Okay, so I'm holding Christmas this year. Super excited and I am leaning into the intense Christmas baking and cooking. So, basically I thought – hey wouldn't it be fun to make Stiles do the same thing while planning for Christmas with the Addamses. But why would he go full on English Christmas (I'm doing it because I'm Australian and I like roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and roast veggies and cheesecake at Christmas – even though it's hot as hell and we either go British or we go barbecue and beach and seafood). Why it would be because someone is coming who is English – GRANDPARENT!  
This will be updated as I complete each step of my Christmas baking. So, come on this questionable ride with me.

 **Christmas Bells Are Ringing**  
by Moonbeam

 **/ / / Mixed Peel \ \ \**

Derek walked into the house and then froze for a moment. The whole house reeked of citrus – he could smell grapefruit, mandarin, lime, lemon, and orange…and sugar, lots of sugar. Derek threw his jacket over the post at the bottom of the stairs and then followed the sound of Stiles' heartbeat into the kitchen. Stiles was sitting at the table – computer in front of him. On the bench there was a cutting board covered in fruit juice and pith and there was a collection of pots, containers, and sieves next to the sink.

"Stiles?"

Stiles looked up from his computer and smiled. "You're early."

Derek nodded. "I finished up quicker than I thought."

"Excellent," Stiles stood up, strode over to him, and kissed him thoroughly.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked when Stiles pulled away.

"Planning."

"Planning what?"

Stiles' heartbeat kicked a little and Derek frowned.

"So," Stiles started. "Don't get mad…"

Derek laughed and pulled away from Stiles. He walked over to the large pot on the stove and looked down at the strips of peel in the sugar water. "What are you making?"

"Candied peel," Stiles said. "And mixed peel…basically the same thing except one of them is coated in sugar."

Derek nodded. "I'm not going to get mad."

"I'm having a family Christmas dinner here."

"Okay."

"You see…okay?" Stiles frowned and cocked his head to the left. "Just okay?"

Derek nodded.

"But you don't like Christmas."

"I had no reason to celebrate Christmas," Derek corrected. "Now, I have a reason."

"And that reason is me," Stiles exclaimed loudly throwing himself at Derek who caught him and held him securely. Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek's lips and then all over his cheeks and eyebrows and forehead.

"Yes," Derek agreed. "The reason is you."

"Then I can have everyone over for Christmas lunch?"

Derek nodded. "Did you really think I would have an issue with it?"

Stiles shrugged. "I didn't – until you were standing there in front of me and I thought; I really should have asked you first."

Derek smiled. "So, next time ask me first."

"Next time?"

Derek pinched Stiles' backside and then let the other man slid to the floor. "There will be a next time."

Stiles made a face and then nodded. "Probably."

"Now, why are you making mixed peel?"

"I need it for my mincemeat and plum pudding."

"What?"

"Dad's Mum is English."

"Your Dad's mum?"

"Yeah."

"Is alive?"

"Yes!" Stiles said, part indignant – part surprised.

"Oh," Derek said, slightly dumbfounded. "I thought that…you didn't have any."

"You're heard me talking about her."

Derek shook his head.

"Lucille."

"You call your grandmother Lucille?"

"If I call her Nana she cries and throws herself onto beds and asks the sky why she was given such a horrible grandson."

"What?" Derek asked, confused.

"She was an actress," Stiles said with a shrug.

Derek couldn't work out what to make of all of this. He had heard Stiles talk about Lucille but he would never have thought she was his grandmother. He thought he knew Stiles – he really thought he knew the other man. He wasn't surprised that Stiles had invited… "Stiles, who do you mean when you say _everyone_?"

"Lucille, the pack, and the Addamses, and Cora, and...I suppose Peter if he's around."

"That's a lot of people."

"I know," Stiles said. "I thought we might do a spit in the backyard. I know it's Winter but, well, it's a lot of people to be feeding so if we can do a side of beef on a spit then I can handle all of the vegetables in your very nice oven."

"We can do a spit and it's our oven."

"And, I thought I might invite cousin Calpurnia."

"The one who was supposed to seduce a priest?"

Stiles nodded. "I thought it might be a nice way to remind her that some of the family are okay with the fact that she's not going to be burned at the stake."

"Does anyone get burned at the stake anymore?"

Stiles shrugged. "You're a werewolf…so there are endless possibilities in the world."

"And if she did seduce a priest away from the church would it really be that big a deal – maybe not a good thing depending on your view point, but surely no one would…of course they would."

Stiles kissed Derek. "I love that you are optimistic sometimes now."

Derek smiled. "It still surprises me."

Stiles curled his arms around Derek's shoulders and snuggled his head into the other man's neck. He pressed a kiss into Derek's skin. "I will reward you for it every time."

"I love you," Derek said, the words feeling like they were escaping from his body rather than being something he meant to say. He meant it, and would say it every other second, but sometimes it literally felt like he couldn't have held the words in if his lips had been sewn shut again.

"Why did you look sad when I told you about Lucille?" Stiles asked quietly.

"I didn't realise there was still so much I didn't know about you," Derek admitted, just as quietly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault I didn't know that Lucille was your grandmother."

Stiles pulled away. "Please, please, call her my grandmother at Christmas. I will pay you cash money…or even in sexual favours."

"We could sit down and-" a timer went off. "Just hold that thought." Stiles walked away and looked down into the pot on the stove – he stirred the citrus peels and frowned. "Come help me – does this look translucent to you?"

Derek walked over and looked down and frowned. "Some of it."

Stiles scrunched his face up in annoyance. "Another ten minutes."

"Have you made mixed peel before?"

Stiles shook his head. "I did a lot of googling when Dad said Lucille was coming over for Christmas this year."

"Do you normally see her at Christmas?"

Stiles shook his head. "She hasn't really been over since Grandpop died."

"He was allowed to be Grandpop?"

Stiles nodded. "He liked being a grandparent – he would make sure they came every year and he'd call me all the time but she's not really that into family. I get a nice envelope of money around my birthday and at Christmas though."

"Tell me about her, and then tell me about why you're making your own candied peel."

"I said – for the plum pudding."

"But why?"

Stiles dragged Derek over to the table and sat down in front of his computer. "So Lucille is British, and when they would come over for Christmas Grandpop would make plum pudding and mince pies and it was amazing so I thought, since Lucille is coming, I thought it would be fun to do it up all British."

"Okay," Derek said – not surprised about this, he fully expected to follow Stiles' whims about stuff like this until he died.

"And," Stiles said, barely contained excitement bubbling up. "I thought since I'm doing it I should **do it** and make as much from scratch as possible."

"Okay."

"You think I'm insane."

Derek shook his head. "No, I think this is going to be fun."

"Really?" Stiles asked. "Because I've got lists."

Derek sat back. "Let me go have a shower. Then we can sit in the lounge room and you can tell me all about our plans."

"Our plans?"

Derek nodded. "Our – we're getting married, it's our plans."

"Then go shower. I will finish the peel and clean up. Is the smell getting to you?"

"Smells very sweet, and tart, and like an over ripe orchard."

Stiles made a hum of interest and then pushed Derek. "Shower."

Derek nodded and walked out. He went upstairs and stepped into the shower, trying to reconcile the fact that Stiles had a grandparent he had no idea about. When Stiles had spoken about Lucille he had known she was family but he hadn't realised that she was his grandmother. He washed himself and when he heard the dishwasher start below he turned the shower off, shaking water out of his hair in a way he refused to let Stiles see, and then towelled off. By the time he made it downstairs, t-shirt sticking to his still damp skin, Stiles was sitting in the lounge room – his laptop sitting on his lap and his glasses perched on his nose. Derek slid into the space next to Stiles who pressed into his side. Moments later Wolverine, Rogue, and Tesla were surrounding them.

"What's that?" Derek asked, pointing to the paper on the coffee table.

"That's a Stiles Stilinski family tree."

Derek leaned over and looked at the hand drawn family tree. He tracked Stiles to his parents – Claudia through the Addamses. Then Sam through his parents – Lucille and Jack, both of Stiles' parents were only children. Hale families were never single child families, but it seemed to be a Stilinski family tradition. The family went back farther on the Krolak side than the Stilinski side but Lucille and Jack's parents were both there.

"I can do much farther back on the Addams/Krolak side," Stiles said. "But it gets really detailed and that's a better job when we have a heap of time."

"There is a Hale one in the vault," Derek told him quietly.

"Why is it still in the vault?" Stiles asked.

Derek sighed. "I would have to put in dates of death for so many people."

"Then it can stay in the vault until we have someone to add to it."

Derek felt the smile and Stiles' warmth keeping the melancholy at bay. "Thank you for this."

"You're welcome, after all they are going to be your family too soon enough. And I realised that if I'm having Christmas I had best invite cousin It and his family."

"Okay, I have been wanting to meet It since I met everyone else."

"There is something I should say about It…he's hirsute."

"Like me when I'm transformed?"

"Like something magical and other."

"How is your grandmother going to handle that?"

Stiles shrugged. "Lucille doesn't see what she doesn't want to see. She's like all of the best things about muggles and humans in books."

"She just won't notice?"

Stiles shook his head. "No one knows how she does it but Mum swore she was able to ignore almost anything that wasn't acceptable to her."

"She doesn't sound…" Derek wasn't sure how to end that.

"She's not like Dad. Dad took after Grandpop."

Derek put down the family tree and looked at the laptop over Stiles' shoulder. "Talk to me about Christmas."

"I'm going to make my own mincemeat – which does not have meat in it. But can have suet."

"Which is?"

"Beef fat."

"Why?"

"Higher melting point than butter. And as I'm steaming the plum pudding for eight hours that makes sense."

"So…plum pudding."

"Has no plums," Stiles explained. "Just raisins and sultanas and currants which were all called plums at some point, or some variation of that word."

"And you steam it for eight hours?"

Stiles nodded. "I need to buy a pudding steamer."

"Why do I feel like that is only the beginning?"

"The mincemeat I'm going to turn into mince pies. And then I'm going to make a Christmas cake."

"That's a lot of baking."

"It's okay – because I'm going to make the pudding and cake in November."

"How?"

"Because you then soak it in brandy or sherry or whiskey every week until Christmas."

"Okay, so it will be really boozy?"

"It will be really fruity. Look," Stiles pulled up a spreadsheet on his computer and showed Derek all of the ingredients and the different things he was going to make with the amounts of everything he would need. Derek stopped reading after he saw 590g of raisins, 240g of sultanas, and 615g of currants. They were all basically the same thing – how could they possibly need that much of them…though he knew they all tasted different. He decided to leave that side of things to Stiles – better for his sanity if he didn't get too deep into the details like that.

"Is that it?"

"I think so…except for the Christmas decorations."

Derek took a deep breath. "I will assume that means I'm going out into the forest to cut you down the perfect tree."

"That would be perfect," Stiles told him. "But you don't have to."

"I'll make some of the pack help."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Do I get to wake up with you on Christmas morning?"

Stiles nodded.

"Then I'm pretty okay with anything."

Stiles put the computer on the coffee table and then curled into Derek's side. "It's going to be so much fun!"

Derek wasn't sure he fully believed that but he was going to do everything he could to make it as good as Stiles was hoping for.

 **/ / /**


	2. Shopping

This is so much later than I wanted it to be. But I'm working on it. And there is no cooking but I promise that the next chapter will invovled making the fruit mince/mincemeat.

 **/ / / Shopping \ \ \**

"Where's the meat?" Derek asked, looking at the bags, and bags, and bags of dried fruit and sugar and other items. "And how much sugar do we need?"

"So much," Stiles said, opening one of the cupboards to fish out some empty pantry containers. "I needed six different types."

"Why?"

Stiles smirked at him. "I'm making three different types of mincemeat."

"Of course you are," Derek said. "Why?"

"There is one traditional one, one that's more tropical and I thought it looked really nice and I know how you love dried tropical fruit."

Derek smiled at him over the bags. "And the last one?"

"Mary Berry recipe."

"Who?"

"You know," Stiles said. "She's on The Great British Bake Off."

"That show you and Liam watch?"

"Yep."

"Which one is she?"

"The female judge," Stiles said as though Derek should already know this.

"Okay."

Stiles sighed. "Just for that I'm going to make you watch the Great British Bake Off Christmas Special with me."

"Okay."

"And you'll actually have to watch it not just use it as an excuse to play with Tesla, Rogue, and Wolverine."

"I promise," Derek said, upending a huge bag of glacé cherries into a container. "Is this everything or is there still stuff in the car?"

"This is everything," Stiles lied.

Derek frowned at him but it was such a ridiculous thing to lie about that he knew Stiles was deliberately hiding something from him for a good reason. Or for a surprise. Derek knew it was his birthday in less than two weeks – and as much as he was kind of hoping that Stiles would just allow it to pass with nothing more than a birthday blow job or something similar he hadn't really expected that it would work that way.

"But where is the meat?"

Stiles shook his head. "There is no meat in it…there used to be but now there isn't. One of the recipes has suet in it though."

"And suet is?"

"Beef fat."

"Beef fat?" Derek asked, trying to work out why anyone would put beef fat into a fruit pie.

"Yep."

Derek nodded just accepting that this was one of those things that it was pointless to argue against. "Okay."

Stiles bounced over and kissed Derek on the cheek and then bounced back over to the table. "I love that you just say okay to something like that."

"You can explain why if you like," Derek offered collecting the rest of the containers from the cupboard and putting them on the table.

Stiles handed him a bag of raisins to put away and he found a container that would fit them. And then Stiles handed each thing to Derek and got him to put them away while he hunted in the drawer and made labels for each of the containers.

"Are we always going to have currants in the house from now on?" Derek asked and Stiles closed one eye and lined up the label as carefully as possible.

Stiles shrugged. "What's wrong with just always having currants on hand?"

"Nothing."

Stiles smiled. "And if we always have currants in the cupboard I can just make curranty things whenever I feel like it."

"Curranty things?"

Stiles nodded and moved onto the label for the glacé cherries. "Given how much you love the label maker I'm surprised you're even commenting on it."

Derek shrugged. "When are you making whatever it is you're making?"

"This weekend – as soon as it's all packed into containers I will make dinner – there is steak in the fridge."

"I'll cook tonight – you've had a busy day. How was the meeting with your publisher?"

Stiles shrugged. "Fine – she wants the next chapter by the end of November and I'm so uninspired. Maybe I should just start writing a Christmas romantic comedy book where a lanky, awkward dork who likes to do research falls in love with the tallish, dark, handsome and broody guy in leather who makes his heart do stupid things and his manly attributes tingle."

Derek laughed and walked over, crowding Stiles back into the cupboards. "I'd read that." Then he kissed Stiles.

"You would become the newest worldwide heartthrob."

"No, I wouldn't," Derek argued, kissing Stiles on the neck.

"You don't understand your amazing appeal," Stiles argued back, kissing Derek and then pressing him back. "You get started on dinner, I'll put this all away, and then we can snuggle up on the couch and watch Mary Berry."

"Is this the type of couch snuggle where we don't watch the show?" Derek asked suggestively.

"No," Stiles said. "After the Great British Bake Off Christmas Special is over we can watch something else that we can ignore. I'll even let you pick it."

Derek rolled his eyes and turned to open the fridge. He pulled out vegetables and started making dinner. Looking forward to both of the shows they were going to watch.

 **/ / /**


	3. Mincemeat

In real life I'm up to the making of fruit mince pies stages and I feel bad that I've let the story lag behind but I feel like I've just been running behind on everything of late. But I am trying to catch up now and I am determined to get it all caught up to me.

 **/ / /** **Mincemeat \ \ \**

"So, we're making fruit mince pies?" Derek asked, carrying all of the containers out of the fridge that Stiles wanted.

"Nope," Stiles responded, voice high with excitement.

Derek froze and frowned at Stiles. "But…"

"We're making the mincemeat though I've also read that it can be called fruit mince. All my recipes call it mincemeat though."

"But why aren't we making the pies?"

"Because it's the middle of November."

Derek looked at the ingredients and then cocked an eyebrow. "But we're making the fruit mince in November?"

"The first one needs to be left for at least a fortnight before we make the pies but all of them will last for up to six months in the fridge. And the flavour profile expands over time." Derek looked at Stiles for a moment and the human started laughing. "I read that somewhere."

"I assumed."

"So, are you helping?" Stiles asked.

"Of course I am."

Stiles beamed at him. "I need one large Bramley apple but I couldn't find that type and have used Granny Smith instead."

"These aren't big."

"I know, I bought a bag of them because it was cheaper. I figure we do two instead?"

"And what am I doing with these apples?" Derek asked, juggling them in one hand before Stiles made a little cut off noise. "Sorry."

"I didn't know you could juggle," Stiles said, staring at him with wide eyes. "How did I not know you could juggle?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't do it very regularly."

"But we're engaged – I should know that you can juggle."

"I can also use fire sticks," Derek offered.

Stiles jumped the distance between them and grabbed Derek's biceps. "You can fire twirl or whatever they call it?"

"Yes."

"I live here – where do you keep your fire sticks?"

Derek shrugged awkwardly. "I don't have a fire staff at the moment."

"Why?"

"I had to leave it in New York when I came after Laura and I never bought another one."

"Oh," Stiles stopped bouncing in front of Derek and stood looking much more subdued.

"It's not a big deal."

Stiles looked like he wanted to fight him on that comment but he nodded. He kissed Derek and then stepped back. "You need to peel and then grate the apples."

"Okay," Derek agreed, thankful that there wasn't a conversation about Derek leaving things behind in his life that he liked doing.

"Thank you."

Derek kissed him again and stepped away from Stiles. "And we have three different types of alcohol because…?"

"Well, the different recipes say things like: _brandy, rum, or sherry_ so I thought it would be worth trying them all out and seeing which one we like so I know which one to use next year."

"Next year?"

Stiles nodded frantically. "We're getting married and solidifying this little family unit, and then one day we will have a pack of little werewolf children and this could be the start of our Christmas traditions."

"They won't necessarily be werewolves."

Stiles shrugged. "They might be."

"They might be but you're not a werewolf so it's only a 50-50 chance."

"I think little werewolves with their little werewolf sideburns and werewolf teeth and having no little werewolf eyebrows and the little kid werewolf growls would all be amazingly cute."

Derek felt his cheeks flush then like something hitting him, his chest tightened as he looked at Stiles who was so sure that little werewolves with Derek's genes would be cute and something he wanted and Derek couldn't remember ever feeling quite so loved.

"Breathe," Stiles said, taking the apples out of his hand. "You've got that look. Stop looking like that, come here." Stiles pulled Derek's head down into his neck and stroked the werewolf's hair, running his nails across Derek's scalp.

Derek sank into Stiles a little and then huffed out a long breath against the human's collar bone. "It just-"

"You never have to explain this to me."

Derek nodded. "I do though."

"No," Stiles said. "We both have triggers. I was possessed and you were in abusive relationships and anytime you ever need me to hold you and get you through these moments I am here. If we are in the middle of a massive fight and you need it I, and my neck, will be here. There is a giant pause button on every moment in our lives where I will stop and I will offer you anything you need to keep your demons at bay. This is never something you need to apologise for or that you need to explain to me. I will have panic attacks and will need you to help me through them and I will keep having those nightmares about…well you know. This is okay."

Derek sagged into Stiles and they just stood silently in the middle of the kitchen until Derek felt like he could step away. Stiles smiled at him brightly and leaned forward to press a kiss to Derek's lips and then took a step back.

"So, peeled and grated?" Derek asked.

"Yes."

"Right," he grabbed the peeler out of the drawer and then found the grater before he set himself to preparing the apple.

"Stop. We have to let the raisins and currants soak," Stiles said quickly. "Don't do that yet."

Derek stopped.

"Just give me five minutes," Stiles said, both apologetic and stressed.

Derek leaned against the counter and watched Stiles read the recipe and then flick to another one on his iPad and then he looked up and smiled.

"I was going to do one recipe at a time but I think we make them all at the same time."

"Okay."

"I'll get the raisins and currants ready can you zest a lemon and then juice half of it?"

"Of course." Derek grabbed the zester and then wondered when he had bought a zester. He looked over at Stiles suspiciously.

"What?" Stiles asked innocently in response.

"You bought a zester."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Stiles tilted his head at the lemon. "So we could zest."

"Which you can do on the box grater."

"But we need the grater for the apple, so it's necessary."

Derek shook his head. "You have a sickness." He knew the joking tone was slightly off but he knew Stiles wouldn't comment – just pretend there was no awkwardness in Derek's attempt to act like nothing had happened.

"I like kitchen gadgets."

"I know, we're going to run out of cupboard space."

"You're handy – we can add on. Maybe a nice big butler's pantry."

Derek laughed and felt like his shoulders were a little less tight than they had been. "Or you could just buy fewer kitchen gadgets."

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe."

Derek knocked the lemon zest into the bowl with the raisins and currants and then cut the lemon.

"I also have a new thing for juicing lemons."

Derek laughed and held out his hand. "Give it to me."

"As soon as we're done."

"Stiles," Derek said, grabbing Stiles' wrist as he walked past. "I love you."

Stiles looked at him and leaned over – kissing Derek on the forehead. "I love you too."

"So what is this gadget?"

"It's a citrus press – we have one for limes and oranges as well."

"Of course we do."

"You know you love it."

"I know that eventually we are going to be swamped by kitchen gadgets."

"We'll be able to cook our way out though."

Derek felt his mouth stretch into a smile and he shook his head. "What else do you need me to do?"

"This one just sits for an hour so can you put a timer on."

Derek pulled out his phone and set the timer and then watched Stiles cover the bowl and pull out another one.

"This one is the Mary Berry recipe," Stiles said.

"I'm excited."

"Sarcasm is such a low form of wit."

"It's your second language."

Stiles laughed. "Okay, I need one of those apples peeled and finely chopped."

Derek started on the apple he had begun peeling earlier. Stiles was measuring out currants, raisins, sultanas, dried cranberries, sugar and spices and putting each one into a large pan.

"Can you also cut that butter into cubes when you're done?"

Derek nodded, he held the chopping board above the pan and pushed the chopped apple in before he started on the butter.

"And can you cut the mixed peel…I wonder how it tastes now that it's been in the fridge for a couple of weeks." Stiles nibbled on the end of one and then made a face. "Do you want to try it?"

"After that face?"

Stiles shrugged. "It was tarter than I was expecting."

Derek leaned over and opened his mouth. Stiles popped the peel between Derek's teeth. Derek chewed it and smiled. "I like it."

"Good, you can eat what's left when we've made everything."

"How do you want it cut?"

Stiles shrugged. "Like the commercial stuff is chopped."

Derek looked at Stiles with an expression that told the human he had no idea what that meant.

"Small?" Stiles offered.

"Okay."

"And the blanched almonds too but that is just roughly chopped so…no bigger than the sultanas?"

"I can do that."

"I'm so pleased you're willing to do all of this cooking with me," Stiles said. "I wouldn't be having nearly as much fun doing this alone."

"Well it is the beginning of our future Christmas traditions and one day cute little werewolf and human children will be here to help too."

Stiles smirked at him. "It's a ten-year plan."

Derek didn't feel the twinge of whatever emotion had hit him earlier but he knew he wouldn't mention this ten-year plan again for a few days. He had wanted Stiles to know that is really wasn't the idea of them having children, of them building a family, that had set Derek's reaction off. He needed Stiles to know that he wanted this ten-year plan life with Stiles as much as Stiles did.

"What else?" Derek asked sliding the mixed peel and blanched almonds into the pot.

"Zest and juice of another lemon."

"Is there anything that doesn't have lemon in it?"

"Not today."

Once they had everything in the pot Stiles sighed and handed Derek the wooden spoon.

"We cook it for ten minutes, stirring occasionally, and then let it cool completely before we add the booze."

"And while it's cooling?"

"We're going to make the last of the recipes."

Derek stirred the fruit while Stiles collected the ingredients for the next recipe and then they made it before finishing the first and putting everything into containers in the fridge. Derek pushed Stiles into the lounge room when he opened the dishwasher door.

"What?" Stiles demanded.

"You're going to go into the lounge room and order us Indian. I'm going to clean up the kitchen and then we are going to watch a stupid Christmas movie."

"It's November, it's not time for Christmas movies yet. But…have you ever seen 'You Can't Take It With You'?"

"No."

"I think you're going to like it. I'll order the Indian but you don't have to do all of the cleaning."

"But I want to."

Stiles looked at him for a second and then nodded. "Okay."

Derek stacked the dishwasher slowly – his mind drifting. He wiped down all of the benches and then walked into the lounge room to find Stiles curled up on the couch – none of their cats in sight. "Where are the cats?"

"The sun is hitting our bed at the moment so they're all up there napping. We could nap."

"We could."

"And then order for a late dinner rather than an early one and watch the movie."

"Napping sounds good."

Stiles stood up and caught Derek's wrist, leading them both upstairs.

 **/ / /**


	4. Derek's Birthday

I am beyond exhausted...but, here - have a chapter that has nothing to do with plot of the story...as small as it is :)  
Apparently, I'm dedicated to emotional hugs at the moment. The Kirk/Spock story I'm writing for the ksadvent has a lot of hurt/comfort.

Also, I'm not a fan of pets on beds but I believe that Derek would be a total pushover and his cats would run his life for him. So, that is why the cats are on the bed.

 **/ / /** **Derek's Birthday \ \ \**

Derek woke up to the smell of bacon frying. There were three warm spots on his back but no body next to him. He sighed – it was his birthday, and he knew he was going to have to go downstairs and he would have to be involved in his birthday. He wasn't ready to do it yet though, so he wriggled, getting a claw in the back for his inconsiderate behaviour, and stared up at the ceiling while the cats resettled around him.

"Are you awake?" Stiles' voice came from the door.

Derek turned his head to see Stiles walking in with a tray piled high with food.

"Good morning, happy birthday, I brought you breakfast in bed."

Derek sat up, the cats turning to glare at him before they scurried off the bed and making their way to the window seat to sit in the sun.

"How'd you annoy them?" Stiles asked, climbing up onto the bed carefully.

"I moved a minute ago as well, it's just too much for the cats to be moved more than once in a morning."

Stiles put the tray down between them. "It's your birthday; you can move them as many times as you want."

"You made me breakfast?"

"I made us breakfast," Stiles corrected. "There are the heart pancakes you made when you proposed to me, and bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, tomatoes, and there is orange juice."

Derek looked down at the spread. "I would have walked downstairs for breakfast."

Stiles shook his head and turned around to grab the remote. "Nope, breakfast in bed and _Star Wars_ because you love the movies. And then I'm taking us to Signal Hill for lunch at that place you love. Then we're picking up a cake and coming back for an evening of Indian, because, while I don't understand the appeal, you love it and any activity you would like."

Derek didn't want to ask but he had to know. "And the pack?"

"Is giving you the gift of not seeing you for your birthday."

Derek smiled at him. "You didn't need to do all of this."

"I know," Stiles said, turning the movie on. "You would have been happy if I had completely ignored your birthday but I want to give you a low-key amazing day. And hopefully you wanted to spend it with me. But, if you'd prefer, I can make myself scarce too."

"I want you here," Derek said. "I will always prefer to spend my birthday with you than alone."

They ate breakfast and watched _A New Hope_ which Derek had to admit was one of the best starts to a birthday morning that Derek could have thought of. He had watched _Star Wars_ with his dad every Father's Day. When the movie was over, Stiles disappeared to put the tray downstairs and Derek followed him down.

"I was coming back," Stiles said.

"I know, but I thought we could move things down to the lounge room for the next movie."

"Anything for you today," Stiles said, grabbing them both glasses of water and settling down on the couch next to Derek. He threw a blanket over their knees and pressed into Derek's side. "How are we going so far?"

"Perfect."

"I'm so glad – I was worried this might be too much as well," Stiles said, handing Derek the remote.

"No, this is just enough birthday."

"Good, I bought you something but I thought you might not want it. So, you can have it today or you can have it at Christmas."

"Christmas."

"Deal."

When the movies were over Stiles told Derek to go and have a shower but the werewolf grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the shower with him. They ended up having a late lunch.

"That was so good," Stiles said, leaning back in his chair at the restaurant. "Like, I wish I could go back in time and eat the whole thing again."

Derek laughed at him. "It was good."

"I love Mexican food and this place is the best. I love that you introduced me to this place and I love that you give me so many opportunities for us to come here and eat it."

"You really liked lunch."

"Bacon for breakfast, Mexican for lunch, and Indian for dinner…it's wonderful."

"Have you slipped into some form of food euphoria?"

Stiles nodded. "Are we going to have Mexican chocolate mousse?"

"Aren't we going to buy a cake after this?"

"So?"

Derek smiled at him. "Your dad would be horrified."

Stiles pointed his straw at Derek. "But he will never know, will he?"

Derek held up his hands. "Never."

"So," Stiles said, leaning over the table. "My plans for this afternoon involve a piece of cake, some…afternoon delight? And…then Indian and whatever you want to do."

"Afternoon delight?"

The waiter stopped next to them and smiled. "Can I get you some dessert?"

"Two Mexican Chocolate Mousses please."

He nodded and walked away.

Derek dropped his voice. "Afternoon delight?"

Stiles grinned at him and winked lasciviously. "I'm thinking we do that thing with the feather and ice that you liked."

Derek felt his whole body flush with want. "That was good."

"I know," Stiles said, reaching over and stroking his finger across the sensitive skin on the inside of Derek's wrist. "I liked that too."

"But it was messy."

"If we can't be messy on your birthday, I don't know when we can make a mess of you in bed."

The waiter put their mousse down on the table and smiled at them both before he walked away.

"Did you do that deliberately?"

Stiles shook his head. "I really didn't. I know how you like to keep our sex life to ourselves."

Derek nodded and tasted his mousse; he wanted to make an indecent noise at the taste but held it in. Stiles didn't even try to hide the noise and Derek's pants grew tight. They ate their mousse with Derek staring at Stiles more than he focussed on the food. At the end he was very tempted to give what was left to Stiles so he could continue to watch the other man feed his oral fetish.

Stiles shook his head and leaned forward to whisper. "I'd prefer to put something else in my mouth."

Derek swallowed the rest of his mousse while his cheeks flamed and he thought unsexy thoughts while Stiles disappeared to 'go to the toilet' and walked to the till instead and paid their bill. Derek knew arguing about it would be pointless so he didn't comment when Stiles came back and they left.

"So," Stiles said, twinning his fingers between Derek's. "I don't want you to see your cake until we get home."

"Do you need to pick it up now?"

"No, why?"

"I want to take you somewhere."

"Okay, you can take me anywhere."

Derek turned to smile at Stiles who leaned over and kissed him. Derek walked them towards the outskirts of town and then down a path into the Signal Hill Preserve. Stiles kept looking at him with some confusion but he didn't ask him where they were going and Derek was surprised enough he didn't push. Finally Derek pulled Stiles through a break in the trees and stopped. Below him was the valley that separated Signal Hill and Beacon Hills, a wide expanse of green and blue where lakes cut into the preserves that ran from here to their home. In the distance they could see the buildings of Beacon Hills.

"My Grandfather used to bring me out here to show me the land we owned."

"You used to own some of the preserve?"

"Still do."

Stiles turned to look at Derek. "The Preserve isn't owned by anyone."

"Yeah, it is, we've owned it since the Gold Rush in California. My ancestors came here instead and when the two towns started to build up my many Great-Grandmother decided that they needed to protect our shifting and hunting grounds so they bought as much land as they could afford and called it a Preserve."

"You own Beacon Hills?"

"No, Cora and I own the land between Signal Hill at the bottom of this cliff to the left as far as the edge of Night Lake and to the right as far at the foothills outside South Litchfield and as far at the end of the Beacon Hills Preserve."

"How did I not know this?"

"We don't talk about it," Derek said, dropping down to the ground and pulling Stiles to sit next to him. "As far as everyone but us and some legal authorities knows all of that land is owned by the California Department of Parks and Recreation. Ownership travels down the eldest child's werewolf line. My mother to me, since Laura died, but until I have children ownership sits with me and my siblings. When we have children I will have to make reparations to Cora. If all of our children were human it would pass directly to Cora. This is done so that ownership remains with werewolves who have a vested interest in keeping the preserve safe and whole."

"Wow."

"We are getting married, and now is the time to talk about this."

"That you own a huge amount of land."

"And a few buildings in town. But those aren't involved in the whole Preserve thing – they are just owned by me. Cora owns a couple as well."

"Of course."

"And, I wanted to show it to you now because we were here but there is something else."

"What?"

"If ever something were ever to happen and we got divorce, or if I died before you…you won't inherit the land, you can't ask for it in the divorce."

"Okay."

"Is that all?"

"Yep," Stiles leaned into Derek. "It's for werewolves to always have a place to be werewolves. And I'm not a werewolf, or of Hale family blood, and I want it to be here for all the werewolves that will one day live in Beacon Hills. I'm very impressed with the forethought of your ancestors."

Derek nodded. "The children of that alpha went out from Beacon Hills and established several other Preserves like this one across America. Except the eldest child."

"Who stayed and continued on this Preserve."

"Exactly."

Stiles turned his head and pressed a kiss into Derek's shoulder. "It's beautiful up here."

"It is," Derek agreed. "Can we stay for a few minutes?"

"It's your birthday; we can stay for as long as you want."

And they did, sitting in the winter sun until Derek remembered the ice and feather trick and stood up. They stopped at the bakery to collect the cake – Derek staying outside so that the cake remained a mystery. Then they drove back to Beacon Hills, taking the scenic route.

When they arrived home, there was a large package on the front porch. Derek frowned over at Stiles but the human shrugged. It was addressed to Derek though and when he sliced it open with a nail he could smell Addams and relaxed.

"It's from your Aunt."

Stiles smiled and then walked past the box and opened the door. "I'm going to put the cake down."

Derek stooped and picked up the box, following Stiles into the house. "How'd they know my birthday?"

Stiles shrugged. "I really didn't tell them. I assume they found out some other way. What is it?"

"No idea yet."

Derek unpacked the box and laughed.

"What?"

"Your uncle sent me a suit."

"A suit?"

Derek turned around and held up the pinstripe suit that had been in the box. Stiles smiled. "I'm both intrigued to see you in that suit and worried that you're going to look like my uncle."

Stiles peeked into the box, there is more in here. He pulled out a note and handed it to Derek.

 _Derek,_

 _Our best wishes on your birthday. As you are about to be a member of the Addams clan – even if it will not be in name, I wanted you to have a proper suit, the suit all Addams men wear. Wear it with pride. We look forward to seeing you in it when you come to visit us at our ancestral home at Wednesday's wedding._

 _Gomez Addams_

"That is really sweet," Derek said.

"There is still more in there."

Derek looked into the box and pulled out the wooden box that was at the bottom. He opened it and looked up at Stiles with a soft expression that looked just a touch stunned.

"What?"

"Your family gave me really sweet birthday presents."

"What is it?"

"A chess set."

"You love chess."

"I know, and this looks like an antique."

Stiles peered at it. "I would think so, almost everything in their house is. I can't wait for you to see it."

"I have an outfit to wear there too."

Stiles smiled at him. "You know, now I know what we are going to do when we're eating Indian."

"What?"

"Strip chess."

Derek cocked an eyebrow at Stiles.

"Or just plain chess…whichever."

"Are you sure you'd be up for strip chess after our afternoon delight?"

"Yes."

"Well then, we'll see how we go."

"Cake now or later?"

"I think later, a pick me up after our exercise."

Stiles nodded and pushed Derek towards the stairs.

That night, after cake – Malted chocolate drizzle & honeycomb cake that Derek loved, Indian, and a game of straight chess followed by a half-finished game of strip chess, Derek fell asleep with the thought that Stiles had given him the best birthday, since the fire, he could ever have hoped for.

 **/ / /**


	5. Christmas Pudding

I wanted to get this finished before Christmas but as Christmas is in 31 minutes, I don't think that's going to happen. Mainly because I've been super busy writing a Spock/Kirk fic for the K/S Advent. I will attempt to get it finished for next Christmas :)  
I did want to give you all another chapter before Christmas...so, I hope you all have an amazing Christmas!

 **/ / /** **Christmas Pudding \ \ \**

"Where are you going?" Derek asked, feeling Stiles leaving the bed.

"It's Stir-up Sunday," Stiles leaned back on the bed, he pressed a kiss to Derek's shoulder blade. "Go back to sleep."

Derek groaned and nodded – not sure what Stir-up Sunday meant but he could take instruction.

Stiles slipped out of the room and walked down the stairs, Tesla twinning around his ankles and trying to trip him up. "You are a menace," Stiles bent down and collected Tesla, "Derek would be so upset if you tripped me down the stairs."

Tesla meowed at him and snuggled down into his elbow. The kitten was, oddly, still tiny compared to Wolverine but it liked Stiles more than Derek and that was nice, not that he'd admit it to Derek. He dropped the cat onto the floor when he made it into the kitchen and then washed his hands. He pulled on an apron and started pulling out all of the ingredients for the plum pudding. He read through the recipe again and started measuring out all of the ingredients. He mixed it all together and then poured it into the buttered pudding steamer and put it into their biggest stock pot. He set an alarm on his phone for an hour to check the water level and then walked through to the lounge room and threw himself down on the couch. Tesla climbed up onto his abdomen and went to sleep.

"Of course," Stiles said, looking down at the cat. "Everyone but me gets to sleep."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and rang his father.

"Hey Dad."

"What are you doing up so early?"

Stiles smiled up at the ceiling. "I am able to get out of bed before noon."

"I know you can, but you try your hardest not to."

"I'm making a plum pudding for Christmas."

Sam sighed on the other end of the phone. "You're really overdoing this whole Christmas thing."

"Nope, I'm doing just enough for this Christmas thing. I have never held Christmas before and Lucille's coming and it's one of the few holidays that Derek actually enjoys. Plus, it's our first proper Christmas together."

"I know. Stiles, I'm very glad you've found yourself someone to spend your life with."

"Me too," Stiles said slowly, not sure what to do with the odd note in his dad's voice. "What are you doing today?"

"Watching a movie or something, why?"

"Want to come over for lunch?"

"Why?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Because I haven't seen you in a few days and I'd like to."

"What about Derek?"

"Derek would like to see you too."

Sam laughed. "Does he even know you're inviting me?"

Stiles shook his head. "Be here at 11."

"I shall take that as a no."

"Dad, just come to lunch."

"Okay, see you at 11."

Stiles groaned when his dad hung up on him. "He's hard work."

"Who?" Derek asked, walking into the lounge room. He lifted Stiles' head, sank down onto the couch, and then rested Stiles back down.

"My dad, I just called and invited him to lunch."

"And what makes him hard work?"

Stiles smiled up at Derek. "He made me work hard to get him to agree."

Derek leaned down and kissed Stiles, then yawned and rested his head back on the cushions.

"Why are you up? I thought you were going back to sleep."

"I couldn't," Derek said. "We're Christmassing…have to do that together."

"You have to be awake so I can check the water in a pot for the next eight hours?"

"Yeah," Derek agreed, ending on a yawn. "That's the Christmas deal."

"I've set my alarm, come lie next to me instead and we can have a little nap."

Derek nodded, sliding out from under Stiles' head and then curling himself into the space left on the couch. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and closed his eyes.

They slept until the alarm went off.

"What did we need to do?" Derek mumbled.

"Check and make sure there is water in the pot with the pudding steamer."

Derek nodded and climbed off the couch.

"You don't even know what to do," Stiles said following him.

"Then show me for next time."

Stiles nodded and turned the kettle on as he walked through the kitchen. "The pudding steamer is sitting on a jar lid so be careful."

Derek nodded and pulled the lid off the stock pot. "There's barely any water in here."

Stiles rested a hand on Derek's shoulder and used it as leverage to stare into the pot. "It's only supposed to be filled to halfway up the pudding steamer."

"Why?"

"So that it's a steamed pudding and not a boiled one." Stiles shrugged as he finished and Derek suspected he'd made that up.

"And why do I smell beef fat?"

"Suet."

"Why do I smell suet?" Derek asked again.

"There is suet in the pudding."

"Why?"

Stiles got a maniacal look and then launched into an explanation about the melting point of suet to lard to butter and why suet was the best fat to be in a pudding because it was boiled for eight hours and it needed something that would hold over the long steam. Derek nodded when he was done and pretended he didn't regret asking.

"The water?" Derek said, lifting the lid again.

Stiles showed him how far to fill the water up and then leaned into Derek. "What should we do for lunch?"

"We could sleep on it."

Stiles nodded and pulled Derek back to the couch. He reset his alarm for another hour and fell back to sleep with two cats on him and a werewolf spooned in front of him.

 **/ / /**


	6. Christmas Cake

Boxing Day!  
A day dedicated to reading, cricket, leftovers, and in this case giving you another chapter. And it's dedication - a part of me wants to sink into Danny/Steve wedding fun. It's calling to me...  
It was brought to my attention that there is a very real place call Signal Hill that isn't anything like the one I described. My one is completely fictional and made up and I had no idea there was a conflict. I just liked the idea of a very similarly named place next to Beacon Hills.

This was not supposed to have a STORY it was just meant to be Christmas fluff but family drama demands to be paid attention to. I don't get it, the worst family drama at my Christmas was a disagreement about the fact that my front porch didn't need to be swept.

 **/ / /** **Christmas Cake \ \ \**

Sam rang the doorbell and smiled at Derek when the werewolf opened the door and ushered him in.

"Stiles is in the kitchen," Derek said, taking the sheriff's coat. "He's making the cake for Christmas."

"You've decided to embrace these plans for a grand Christmas?"

"He's having a lot of fun with it," Derek said on a shrug. "I've found that surrender in the face of this level of enthusiasm from him is better. I don't have anything against Christmas and I really don't mind having everyone here – it suits the alpha in me even if I'm not an alpha anymore."

"How does that work? Stiles tried to explain it once but it didn't make much sense."

"I'm not physically an alpha anymore but my instincts still exist and I still feel the desire to protect and nurture the pack. There aren't that many alphas who have given up their powers like I have but everything I've been able to find shows that this is a normal reaction to what I did – I saved Cora by giving up my alpha powers which was in itself the action of true…wrong word given Scott but still right…the action was in the true essence of what it means to be an alpha. So the instincts aren't just a part of being an alpha they are part of who I am."

"But you're happy to be a beta?"

Derek shrugged. "I'm happy with my life right now."

Sam smiled at him. "That is a very reassuring answer for Stiles' dad but it didn't actually answer my question."

"You know Stiles does that too," Derek said, pushing the kitchen door open. "Refusing to leave something alone."

"I do," Stiles agreed happily, pulling a pot off the stove and settling it on a pot holder. "Hey Dad."

Sam accepted a hug from Stiles before his son went back to the stove.

"We're having chicken schnitzel with salad."

"That sounds nice," Sam said, thinking of how often his son tried to feed him food that was too healthy to be really yummy.

"Derek's cooking," Stiles said, turning the oven on and then pulling out a deep cake tin. "I'm making our Christmas cake."

"Don't you think you're overdoing this a bit?"

"Yep," Stiles agreed happily. "Want something to drink?"

"Water's fine."

Stiles got his father a glass of water and ushered him to a seat and then went back into the kitchen to pull out some baking paper before he joined his dad with the cake tin. "How's work?"

Sam shrugged. "Fine."

Stiles nodded, his father seemed less and less happy with work every time he spoke to him. He let it go though. "Have you given some more thought to your big trip?"

Sam smiled. "Are you both still going to come?"

"Of course," Derek said. "Assuming you want us both to come."

"You're family now, Derek, of course we want you to come."

"I keep telling him," Stiles said, lining the cake tin with a double layer of baking paper and then pushing the tin to the side. "Do you want help with the planning or do you want to do it all yourself?"

"I want help," Sam said. "But we can worry about it all after Christmas."

Derek stood at the kitchen bench, making them lunch, while Stiles pried out of his father a list of all the places he would like to go. Derek had a feeling that Stiles was going to try and use some of his royalties to give his father a bigger holiday than the man intended but he'd save that conversation until after Sam left. He battered the thinly beaten chicken and his senses warred between the heavy smell of lemon from the chicken and the rich, alcohol-scented, smell of the fruit. He could smell the pudding still steaming away in the pot on the stove. He didn't understand the appeal of cooking cake and pudding over a month before Christmas but he could understand that Stiles was invested in doing this. And this is what Derek had wanted when he'd spent time pining after Stiles. He'd wanted them to share this life and all the insane, joyful, thirst for life things that Stiles did and he wanted them to share his need to support the pack of another alpha.

"Stiles," Sam finally said. "We can talk about it after Christmas."

"Fine, but we could have done a little preliminary planning today."

"While you're making a cake and Derek's cooking lunch, and you have a…something else cooking on the stove?"

"I can multitask."

"And I have always told you; sometimes the best thing to do is concentrate on one thing and do it well."

"Okay, if you're sure, we can look at it after Christmas."

"Thank you."

"Or after lunch."

"After Christmas," Sam said, standing up. "You're just like Claudia…had to be now, too excited over the possibility to leave anything until later."

Stiles smiled at his father but Derek could also see the hint of pain. "Then I feel like you should be used to this by now."

Sam laughed and got himself another glass of water. "Tell me about your Christmas baking plans."

Stiles smiled brightly. "I've made the three different types of fruit mincemeat, I've got the plum pudding steaming in that pot, and I'm about to finish the Christmas cake."

"Seems early."

"Well," Stiles said, smiling. "The idea is that you cook it now, then once a week I pour a tablespoon of alcohol over it to keep it moist and mature it. I stop a week before and let it dry out then I ice it. I'm thinking I'll use royal icing rather than fondant."

"Because fondant is disgusting?" Derek offered.

"Pretty much, but I'm not a marzipan fan either and I'm going to use it on the cake."

Derek shrugged where he was standing, not that invested in anything about the cake – he really didn't like fruit cake.

"Do you like marzipan?" Sam asked him.

"I don't think I've ever eaten it."

"It tastes vaguely like almonds that have gone bad," Stiles offered. "Are you ready for me to make the salad?"

"Nope," Derek shook his head. "Just make your cake and I'll make the salad before I cook these schnitzels up."

Stiles looked about ready to argue and then nodded.

"Are you excited that your mother is coming for Christmas this year?" Derek asked Sam.

Sam shrugged. "Yes and no."

"I understand," Derek said, ripping cos lettuce leaves and throwing them into a bowl. He could understand even if he didn't have the specifics.

"My mother," Sam started and then shook his head. "I'm sure Stiles has told you that he gets his more dramatic tendencies from her."

Derek turned to look at Stiles who shrugged. "Mum was kind of dramatic too."

"She was nothing like my mother," Sam disagreed. "My mother is selfish and completely…there is no correct way of saying nuts anymore is there?"

"No, especially since she isn't emotionally or mentally ill."

"You try growing up with her," Sam threw back.

Derek wondered if Sam took after his father or if he had become a sheriff in rebellion to the lifestyle he had grown up with. He didn't really think it was any of his business though and Stiles would end up telling him all about it with the smallest provocation later.

"I know she's hard work, Dad, but we haven't seen her in ages and it's nice that she wants to come and see us."

"I just don't understand why she's coming now."

Stiles shrugged. "What did she say when she called."

"Hello Samuel, I'm coming over for Christmas. I assume you have room for me to stay there since Stiles has left to live with his boyfriend."

"Fiancé," Stiles corrected.

Sam shrugged. "You wanted me to tell you what she'd said."

"Is that it?"

"She told me about what she's been doing in Essex and the woes of community theatre in such a small town and then she told me she would be here on the twentieth."

Stiles frowned as he stirred the cake mixture together and then poured it into the pan. Derek wanted to ask but he hadn't quite worked out how deeply Sam was willing to let him into their family. Regardless of what he said about the holiday for his birthday.

"Even if she's horrible," Stiles said. "We will still have a nice Christmas."

"Yes," Sam lied, heartbeat quirking, but his face was a mask of belief. "We will have a wonderful Christmas."

Stiles smiled and slipped the cake into the oven. "That needs two hours."

Stiles set out plates on the table while Derek finished making lunch and then slid into the chair next to his dad. He dropped his voice down but he had to know that Derek could still hear him. "If you don't want her to come we can come up with a lie, we can tell her that we already have plans somewhere else. I know she annoys you and I know she wasn't the best of mothers."

Sam shook his head, Derek pretended he wasn't paying close attention to what they were doing and saying.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"She's still my mother and if she's making the effort then she can stay with me."

Derek wasn't going to say anything but his mouth started without him. "One of my rental properties is empty at the moment. It's furnished, and in the centre of town, she could stay there."

Stiles and Sam turned to look at him.

"What?" Derek asked defensively.

"Rental properties?" Sam asked.

"I ain't saying I'm a golddigger, but I ain't messing with no broke werewolf."

Derek shook his head and judged his own taste in men as Stiles doubled over in laughter.

"How long have you been waiting to make that joke?" Sam asked.

"Oh, so long."

Derek groaned. "The offer is there if you need it."

"I didn't know you owned a rental property."

"Properties," Derek corrected. "I own a few, but one of them is empty and I can just hold off looking for anyone until after she goes home."

"You would do that for her?"

"I would do it for you," Derek shrugged, feeling self-conscious now he'd said the words. "Stiles…" he added plaintively.

"Derek is done with his emotional openness for the day. It's settled, if you want - Lucille can stay in his apartment and you can hear how horrible it is to not be given a place to stay in her own son's house but only when you see her and I will make sure to alternate days with you so you don't have her all the time. Then we can have a family Christmas and everything will be fine."

Sam nodded. "That would be great, thank you, Derek."

Derek shrugged and carried the food over to the table. "Let's eat."

Luckily, the accommodation arrangements weren't brought up again, the cake came out perfectly, and they sat around in the lounge room chatting until late in the day about Stiles' latest book and the plans Sam had for a vegetable garden when winter was over. Derek suspected that the older man was gearing up to retirement. Derek hadn't thought he would ever have a family moment like this and yet the Stilinskis had brought him into their lives. And he was eternally grateful…even if there was more opportunity to stress than ever before.

 **/ / /**


End file.
